


Social Butterfly

by Alluring_Alliteration



Category: Young Wizards - Diane Duane
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-06 23:23:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1876425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alluring_Alliteration/pseuds/Alluring_Alliteration
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dairine Callahan faced down the literal incarnation of Death when she was nine years old. So really, a party full of gossipy nobles should not be that difficult. At all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Social Butterfly

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Geekhyena](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geekhyena/gifts).



> Sorry Dairine. Nosy and rude people are the worst. Hey, at least you've got eye candy to keep you company. Anyway, not sure this is what you were looking for, Geekhyena, but I hope you like it anyway!
> 
> ____________
> 
> "Give me fluffy romance. Level of physicality doesn't matter (although smut is 1000% ok with me), I just want those two being fluffy and adorable together. NME Timeline please! (Also feel free to work Carmela and/or the Mobiles in)." -Geekhyena

Dairine Callahan flashed what might possibly have been interpreted as a smile at a boy pretending not to stare at her, and snagged some sort of pastry off a floating tray, making the teenager squeak and turn away. Long past the point of patience with manners of any kind, she fit the whole thing into her mouth in one bite. Well, at least it gave her an excuse not to talk to anyone. As she chewed the pastry, which had the texture of a cupcake but the taste of pizza, she felt a sharp elbow dig surreptitiously into her side.

Roshaun ke Nelaid am Seriv am Pretentious am Overbearing am Never Thinks To Warn His Girlfriend That There Are Going To Be So Many People At These Things am det Nuiiliat was chatting with a pair of wrinkly old women, who were somehow still much taller than Dairine, about the weather in the southwestern province, and exclaiming politely over pictures of their newest grandchild. At Roshaun’s reminder, Dairine swallowed her food and tried again for a smile. She seemed to be more successful this time, because the old women’s expressions seemed more approving, although there was still a sharp glint of something that almost made her uneasy.

“-And of course, Hreighit am Callahan’s family has just celebrated the birth of her neice, so we understand how happy you both must be.” Dairine refrained from snorting, but it was a near thing. Judging by the pictures she’d just been shown, Lizzie was a heck of a lot cuter than the red-faced baby with the slightly crossed eyes. Not that she was biased, or anything. She nodded instead, gripping her partner’s arm tightly as a signal that she wanted to leave.

“Wow, babies, right? Man, watch out or they’ll grow up way too fast. Anyway, it was really nice to meet you both, lots of well-wishes to your family, but I’m afraid there’s some urgent business that Rosh- I mean, the Prince and I need to take care of. Bye!” 

Thankfully Roshaun came along willingly, after dispensing another charmingly princely smile upon the pair of courtiers. She’d tried dragging him places many times before, and at their wildly disparate heights it rarely worked out. Sure, she was usually strong enough to move him at least a few feet, and she could always use wizardry if it was really an emergency. It just never looked anything like dignified. As they walked, she at perhaps a slightly faster pace than him, she tried to no avail to tune out the snatches of conversation that were just loud enough for her to hear.

“-Girl from a hopelessly unrefined family, honestly the match is never going to-”  
“-practically a savage, I mean did you see her with that Alternian Crab Cake-”  
“-sister is also a hreighin, obviously there’s some good blood somewhere in the line-”

Okay, the last one wasn’t that bad. But still, Dairine was pretty sure she was never ever going to be a social butterfly.

Finally, the pair of them reached a nondescript side entrance to the ballroom and Roshaun slipped through the short, narrow doorway with the ease of long practice. Dairine passed through with the ease of being almost a foot shorter. The doorway opened onto an alcove which contained a small balcony, one that gave an incredible view of the scorched desert plain. The night air was cool on Dairine’s skin after the stifling heat and the clingy perfumes of the partygoers. 

She fanned herself gratefully and made a face at Roshaun. “I don’t think I would have lasted another minute in there. Even ennobling those yummy cake things wasn’t enough to keep me sane.”

He rolled his eyes, which made her smirk internally. It was nice to see that her boyfriend had managed to pick up some bad habits from her, despite claiming that he was above such things. “You are being dramatic. It was barely three and a half hours, I’ve seen you spend five hours straight working on wizardry with Spot without even a break to eat or relieve yourself.”

“That is totally different,” she objected. “One, the stuff Spot and I work on is interesting, unlike anything these people are talking about. And two, I don’t have to put up with annoying busybodies staring and talking about me like I can’t hear them even though I’m five feet away.”

Roshaun’s face softened, and he reached out to smooth a wayward strand of hair out of her face. “You know I don’t believe any of that nonsense, right? Nor do my parents, or anyone I care about. You are braver and more intelligent than any of them.”

“Of course I know that,” she scoffed, but something tightly wound inside her chest loosened a little anyway. She planted her hands on the wide railing that encircled the balcony and boosted herself up until she was seated on it. At this height, they were nearly face to face. “Not even the one about my family being inbred pig farmers? ‘Cause I gotta say, even I think that one’s kind of convincing.”

Wincing, Roshaun pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t even know where that one came from. We tried to find the source but no one could name exactly where they heard it fir-” he broke off with a look of dawning horror. “You didn’t.”

She shrugged nonchalantly. “I refuse to be held responsible for what I do to entertain myself when you leave me alone at social gatherings.”

“You,” he accused, eyes narrowed, “have been spending far too much time with Carmela.”

Dairine raised her eyebrows and gave him a wicked grin back. “Maybe. And maybe she gave me some tips on stuff you might like.” Grasping his chin gently but firmly, she pulled his face in to press her lips against his. This was familiar territory: the smooth slide of her tongue against his mouth, the scrape of his teeth against her bottom lip that still made her shiver, the heat of their bodies pressed together. She pulled back after several long moments and eyed him appraisingly. His long blonde hair was slightly mussed from her fingers, and there was a slightly glazed look in his eye that she was probably mirroring, but otherwise he looked as cool and collected as if he had just stepped off the pages of a magazine. Time to change that.

“Bedroom?” he raised one perfectly arched eyebrow, correctly interpreting the look on her face. When she smirked in response and leaned in to bite at his exposed collar bones, he took only seconds to speak the necessary words. The two of them vanished from the alcove, leaving no evidence they’d ever been there at all.


End file.
